coping
by bearfuck
Summary: Tsuna's guardians all present emotions differently. Slashy if you squint. For KHRFest, prompt: Yamamoto/Gokudera - Coping; "You hide behind scowls, I hide behind smiles."


**Title: **Coping**  
Author/Artist: **bandanability**  
Rating: **PG-13-ish**  
Warnings: **Stupid shit and profanity~ Slashy if you squint.**  
Prompt: **3 − 22. Yamamoto/Gokudera - Coping; "You hide behind scowls, I hide behind smiles"**  
Summary:** Tsuna's guardians all present emotions differently.**  
Word count:** 987

They were nineteen and exhausted, and attending some terribly boring function in Italy. If not for the fact that Takeshi had been looking at Gokudera in that single moment, he wouldn't have noticed the way the italian's ears perked up at the beginning of one song the pianist began playing, or the subtle way he slipped out to the bathroom. But he did notice, and so he followed, only to hear a choked sob and a very familiar voice muttering something in italian.

Gokudera was crying.

In that single moment, it registered that the Storm Guardian was a real, honest-to-god person, with real, honest-to-god emotions. He was just better at hiding them. Shocked, Yamamoto curled into a sitting position against the wall beside the door and waited through several minutes of cursing and muffled sobs until they finally subsided. It didn't register that running would be wise, so he was still waiting there when Hayato opened the door. The roots of his hair were wet and his eyes were the tiniest bit swollen, but not to the point where it would be noticed if one wasn't looking for signs of tears.

"What the hell are you doing here, idiot?" Takeshi saw him reach into the front of his jacket, presumably for dynamite or a knife or something equally dangerous. Instead of backing away or doing anything sensible, Takeshi stood and wrapped his arms around Gokudera. After a moment of stiffness, his fists unclenched and he rested his hands against Yamamoto's chest.

After they separated and Gokudera wiped his eyes, the two never mentioned the moment again.

——————

Oddly enough, it was almost as hard to catch Hayato laughing. Yes, he'd chuckle at Tsuna's attempts at humor, or he'd snort when someone fell flat on their face, but he never really _laughed_. When Takeshi realized this, he decided to make it his personal mission to make the italian laugh just once.

Of course, he failed, but to him, failure is just a way of illustrating that growth is needed to achieve success. So he went back, and kept trying. It took three weeks to even earn a snicker, but one day, he decided to whip out the most pathetic joke in his arsenal, while they were sitting on the couch, waiting for Tsuna to return from the bathroom.

"Hey, 'Dera."

"Don't call me that."

"Ask me if I'm a truck."

An awkward silence followed before a muttered, "are you a truck?"

"Yeah. Now ask me if I'm a banana."

Gokudera glared at him. "Fine. Are you a banana?"

"No, I'm a truck!"

The look Gokudera shot at him was priceless - an odd combination of confusion, disgust, and amusement, before he pressed his palm against his forehead. "That has got to be the worst joke I have ever heard."

And proceeded to crack up.

———————

Right around the same time, Hayato made a similar promise to himself - he was going to piss Yamamoto off.

He was sick of seeing the same _stupid_ smile on that same _stupid_ face every day. He didn't know why he cared - dammit, he _didn't_ care, but he was bored, and it could be fun, trying to wipe that aforementioned smile off of that aforementioned face.

For some strange reason, he couldn't. He was the best at everything, dammit, but that idiot _kept smiling._ And on the rare occasion he actually managed to take things seriously, he just became freakishly calm. Never angry. And if he failed at anything, he didn't get upset, he'd just half-smile and say he'd do better next time.

Then came the day when some dumb shits from a local gang decided to fuck with Gokudera and Tsuna while they walked home. They had the situation under control until Bianchi came to help, sans goggles. When Yamamoto got there moments later, two out of three were down, and Gokudera was not so much fighting as flailing, barely choking down vomit.

That afternoon, Hayato got his wish and Takeshi took down four local gangbangers, looking furious and deadly and dear lord _terrifying_. After that, Gokudera fucked with him a little less and respected him a little more, though he was still the very personification of the term "idiot."

———————

One late night, two years later, Hayato was returning from work several hours earlier than expected (which meant two in the morning rather than five), exhausted. He pushed opened the door to the apartment he was sharing with Takeshi (as a matter of rent and convenience, _not_ anything more) and dumped his bag next to the door, loosening his tie as he made his way to the bathroom. The fucking Giordano boss wanted all kinds of shit from Tsuna, and it was looking like it was going to turn nasty, and fast. He groaned as he looked in the mirror over the sink - the bags under his eyes were becoming pretty damn noticeable, and his hair looked disgusting, even though he'd showered that morning.

He was a fucking mess.

He splashed cold water onto his face and yawned before stumbling into the bedroom. He was about to sit on his bed when he noticed Takeshi asleep on the couch, curled up in a ball. He shook the swordsman awake, only to be met with red eyes, swollen from what could only be tears.

"Shit, Takeshi, you okay?"

Takeshi half-smiled. "I'm fine, just crazy stressed." Hayato sat down next to him.

"Jesus, if it's that bad, I can ask Tsuna to dump some of it on someone else. You never let on."

"I'm good, really. It's just…you know. You hide behind scowls, I hide behind smiles." He shrugged, grin restored.

"Eh, makes sense." Hayato smiled. "But at least sleep in your fucking bed, idiot."

"Will do, ahaha."

With that, they each made their way to their beds, both understanding that this, too, was an event that was never to be mentioned again.

_fin._

Thoughts?


End file.
